


New Passports

by chibixkadaj



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Gangs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of Jaehyun/Ten, Mentions of Yuta/Taeil/Winwin, light Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 08:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16807108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibixkadaj/pseuds/chibixkadaj
Summary: Johnny's perfect life starts to feel like perfection only after Taeyong's bloody, beautiful face appeared in the warehouse bathroom mirror next to him.Inspired by: Fall Out Boy - The (Shipped) Gold Standard // Panic! At the Disco - Ready to Go (Get Me Out Of My Mind)





	1. Part I

“Stop calling us a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Do you even know what that play is about?” Taeyong whined, finger poking Johnny’s jaw (and his kiss primed lips) away. “Mister Rank One doesn’t even know popular Shakespearean literature. What kind of scholar are you, hm?”

“But it’s like the epitome of Shakespeare’s romance. How do I love thee?--”

“ _ How _ are we different? Let me count the ways,” Taeyong interjected. “Our families are not enemies. We are not teenagers. And this isn’t going to end in some preventable tragedy Also that sonnet isn't by Shakespeare.”

“ _ How _ are you so sure?” Johnny nudged Taeyong’s bare back against the mattress and climbed over him. It was one thing when the length of his body, the tone of his muscles, trapped Taeyong down. It was a whole other when he gave him  _ that  _ devilish smirk and let loose strands of his dark hair over his eye. “Do you  _ want _ to end in a preventable tragedy,  _ Jonathan?”  _

Johnny grew weak at that ridiculous name, collapsing his weight onto the man beneath him both in retaliation and an inability to laugh and support himself at the same time. “Fine,” he huffed, eyes rolling. “Then what are we?” 

Taeyong rolled them back over, grinning into the kiss he placed to Johnny’s lips. “We’re us. Plain and simple.”

X 

Taeyong liked to think them the most romantic couple despite the least romantic circumstances. They’re no Capulets or Montagues. Their parents didn’t even know each other-- or not personally. But they’re not from the same world either. Johnny was perfect, and not only in Taeyong’s eyes. He was top of the class, tall, dashing, eloquent (read: PR trained), rich, athletic, and everything one could want to be. Taeyong was not. His past was not nearly as immaculate--not with low tier gang involvement and a handful of petty misdemeanors under his belt. They shared opposite reputations. While Johnny had maintained perfect attendance Taeyong was rarely spotted in class. He didn’t have the time; not with helping his mom at her restaurant and, well, to be honest he had never really  _ left  _ the gang. He just moved up from low tier involvement to sub-boss level engagement. Not so much by choice, either, but Taeyong had enough woe-is-me setbacks in his life that he didn’t fixate on the details anymore. Or he tried not to. Not when Johnny was endeared to his casual, half “I don’t care about anything” half “water off a duck’s back” nature. And with Johnny being the best thing to happen in Taeyong’s life thus far he would do anything to keep him; to make him happy, to give him reprieve from his picture perfect life. Johnny needed it more than he did. Besides, Taeyong clung to impermanence; waiting for when the time was right.

Their introduction was no meet-cute either; though they met and it was cute, they both think. Taeyong especially, though he was more than a little intoxicated at the time. Mid mission in a warehouse rave, he wasn’t one to sample his gang’s goods but his often anxious state of equilibrium always begged for a few drinks just to get the job done. Only when he had face to face bargains, which just happened to be every other time. Parties weren’t his scene usually, either, not if he had to pick. And this mission was big...ish, so he might have taken a few too many shots, might’ve gotten a little too beat up while on track to the night’s success. Taeyong was the talker of their group. The persuader. Most of the time work just meant flexing strength. Show the Big Bosses that he had the stuff, and by extension that his gang was a reputable force compared to an opponent, then smooth sailing as they bought into their products. Taking a few extra punches didn’t inhibit this process. In fact, so long as Taeyong grinned right through each hit he usually could sell easily. “You’re fucking crazy,” he’d often hear as they clapped his back and slipped wads of cash into his back pockets. “Fucking insane.”

He took to the bathroom after to mend his nearly broken nose. Thankfully everything was still more or less intact, just patches of blood and bruises accessorized his made up face. Trying not to wipe away his eyeliner along with the red stuff, Taeyong had been too distracted to notice a strikingly handsome man step up to the sink next to him. The other jumped, having looked up to check himself out and caught a glance of Taeyong in the process. “Oh my God,” shot between them in startled English, “are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry,” Korean now, a bilingual beauty. “are you okay?” 

Taeyong shrugged a shoulder and dabbed at his nose again. Still bleeding. Damn. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine. Here, let me help you.”

“You don’t-- W-what?! I’m...I’m fine!” But Taeyong had no energy to struggle as the stranger muscled him over to the handicap stall and kicked the lid down for him to sit on. So he just looked up, wide eyed and dumbfounded. “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you. Stay put.” A large hand pressed against his fishnet covered chest to keep him in place. Oh. Forceful, huh? Taeyong liked that. He stayed put while the other gathered an array of wet, soapy, and dry paper towels. “This might hurt,” the stranger’s voice softened a few notches though it didn’t detract from how much depth it held. Taeyong was stunned both by the kindness and from the man’s attractiveness; he was a sucker for tight jeans and see through shirts. Whatever he’d done to be blessed by karma like this he would happily do again. He blinked up as the other leaned in, dabbing at his busted up lip with the soapy towel. It stung like a  _ bitch _ but Taeyong didn’t move; didn’t even flinch. Pain like this was the easy part. And that seemed to impress the guy because his brows raised and he asked, “You doing alright?”

“Fine,” Taeyong muttered, careful not to disturb the work being done to clean him up. Rather, he inhaled his sweat tinged yet freshly clean scent. “Are you some sort of doctor or something?”

“In training,” he smiled and it downright lit up Taeyong’s life. “I’ve got this year of schooling to finish and then another few of residencies and I’ll officially be in the game.” 

“Wow.”

“Impressed?” he chuckled. “It’s nothing really. Just a lot of school and stuff.” 

“A doctor.” 

“Yeah? There are lots of doctors. I’m nothing special.” 

“‘S cool to me,” Taeyong laughed, tongue dabbing at the forming scab on the corner of his mouth when Johnny moved to another cut. 

“Hey,” he  _ whacked _ him and Taeyong jumped. “Don’t touch.” 

“Fine…” Taeyong let out a low whine and slumped his weight forward for more stability. A whole ass almost gang boss and some student playing doctor just smack him. Bold. Taeyong loved it.

Sitting here like this two things happened: first, he realized how much he hurt from the brief brawl. Second, he had to acknowledge that he was drunk. Two very different, very counteracting feelings that left him a little dizzy. He must have started swaying because a hand fell to his shoulder and the other was speaking again, “Stay with me. You feeling okay? I can take you somewhere else if you want.”

“No,” Taeyong said a little too quickly with a little too much bite. Somewhere else while in this state often meant hospitals and he wouldn’t be caught dead there. Or...he would only be caught dead there. Alive? No chance. “I’m okay.”

“Okay…” He replied slowly, eyeing Taeyong suspiciously before going back to work. Small talk, the stranger thinks, that might be the best way to keep focus. Also he rudely dragged him into a bathroom stall and didn’t introduce himself. “I’m Seo Yo-- Johnny. Johnny Suh. Nice to meet you.”

“Johnny?” Taeyong was too drunk to catch the slip up or that Johnny was visibly relieved by that. 

“Not from here then?”

“Nope. Chicago born and raised. Moved here for university.” 

“Oh, America huh? I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Have you?” Johnny laughed light and low in his throat. “Why’s that?”

“Well, to be honest I’ve just wanted to go anywhere that isn’t Seoul. Doesn’t matter the place. Chicago would be nice I’m sure.”

“Chicago  _ is _ nice,” Johnny agreed, dabbing now with the dry towel. Taeyong winced at the roughness of the material against his skin. “And what about you? Got a name or are you just a pretty face with a bloody mystery?”

Taeyong’s heart fluttered at that. He loved poetry; and poetic people in particular. Talk to him in metaphors, serade him in similes, and you had him for life. “Lee Taeyong,” he replied, shifting his weight from his elbows resting on his knees to his back pressing against the basin of the toilet. “From Seoul. That’s it though. No exciting tidbits.”

Somehow Johnny found that a bit hard to believe but he didn’t push. It wasn’t uncommon to see party goers getting into scuffles, but the damage done to him, and Taeyong’s casualness while being tended to, tipped him off to something. He couldn’t put his finger on it. But it wasn’t his business anyway. 

“Alright Lee Taeyong. Well you’re just about cleaned up.” Johnny reached out the stall doorway to throw away his makeshift tools. “Everything looks good so far so I don’t think you’ll need a hospital or stitches or anything. But maybe lay off on the bar brawls huh? You look too good to be beaten up all the time.”

Taeyong let out a laugh. Emboldened by alcohol he leaned in close to Johnny as he stood and grinned. “You look too good to not ask me out,” he returned, slipping his phone into Johnny’s hand for his number. Somehow he got it. And somehow, even more miraculously, when he woke up with a throbbing head and rife with his usual anxious energy that next morning, he still managed to shoot Johnny a text: 

__ TYT: youre the one from last night right? thanks for helping me  
MrSuh: Taeyong?  
MrSuh: I’m glad you’re doing okay!  
TYT: me too hahah. thanks to you  
MrSuh: So when do you want to meet up again? :)  
TYT: im sorry??  
MrSuh: That’s why you took my number right? Let’s go get some food! I’m sure you could use it :)

Taeyong really could, especially if his rumbling stomach was any indication.

So that’s how they ended up on their first of many dates; Taeyong sitting rather shyly across from Johnny, a table of food between them that the other had offered to cover (this was how he started to learn of Johnny’s wealth). The restaurant quickly became a familiar setting for them, for a while-- a quaint place a few blocks away from the university they quickly learned they both had shared during their undergrad days, tucked away and out of sight in an alley. Johnny liked it because the only people to know him here were the owners and Taeyong was grateful to eat somewhere that he didn’t have to work at after; even if this place semi, sort of rivaled his mother’s own restaurant. 

One soju fueled night carried them from their typical date, though they weren’t calling it such at the time, spot to Johnny’s apartment (this is how he confirmed Johnny’s wealth). A one bedroom, 30th floor apartment so spacious and clean it was like Taeyong’s wet dream-- white walls and dark wooden floors, all accented by black lacquered furniture. No roommate. “I’ll never leave,” he joked as Johnny swooped him into his arms.

“You don’t have to,” he smirked back before kissing Taeyong slow and deep. Maybe it was too quick to go from warehouse bathroom to restaurant to making out. Maybe all of their meetings had been fueled by underlying sexual tension. Or maybe Taeyong didn’t give too much of a damn because Johnny Suh was so goddamn beautiful that being able to kiss him felt like a blessing in its own right. And likewise, Johnny was enamored with Taeyong’s model good looks and the way that he could flip a switch from cheeky and confident to demure and bashful. Johnny was no stranger to duality himself, finding it in Taeyong gave him something akin to home. 

For the first time since his move to Korea he didn’t feel so alone.

But more on that later because they had bodies to explore now, and secrets to unveil later. Taeyong’s sooner than expected, as Johnny peeled the dark green flannel from his shoulders and pulled the white undershirt over his head. He paused, hands well fed with the feel of Taeyong’s skin and eyes ready to drink in details, and almost choked, actually, but managed to spare them both the embarrassment. 

“This…” He started, fingers trailing over the patterns inked into the top of Taeyong’s left pec and over his side. He stepped around Taeyong’s drunkenly dumbstruck form to see how the lines extended around him him. A fully formed wolf, sharp, strikingly pointed purple claws extended past his ribs, silver body wrapping around him, tail fanned out at his back. The wolf’s eyes glowed an alarmingly bright blue. The lines were bold but faded with time, in a way that even the best amount of upkeep couldn’t combat. And on his chest Taeyong bore a fresher mark of his status: graffitied swipes in the form of a crown, uncolored until he reached highest rank. 

Johnny was stuck between awed and terrified. Even in America he had never seen tattoos as elaborate as these-- even the finest, tiniest detail being executed precisely. These were costly, which meant Taeyong either had a hefty tattoo budget or their bloody meeting in the warehouse bathroom was starting to make more sense. “Taeyong...are you…”

“Whatever you think it is is probably correct,” Taeyong tried to add a layer of mirth to his voice; some sort of laugh to lighten the situation, something like his aloof attitude that drew Johnny to him in the first place. But he was terrified and suddenly too sober as he stood before the other. Had he expected to hide this? No. Taeyong wasn’t stupid, nor was he ashamed of what he did. But he had hoped to explain it a little more gently; not mid-hard on and uncomfortable in Johnny’s sterile apartment. Taeyong felt dirty. “Does it bother you?”

“I...don’t know?” Johnny replied, daring to touch the outlines of the crown. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Taeyong winced and Johnny, thinking it was due to the placement of his hand, drew it away. “Have I hurt you yet?” Taeyong asked after a moment, pinched brow betraying the hurt that settled in his chest.

“No.”

“Then I’m not going to start now. Not if I can help it.” 

Nothing was probably more of a boner killer than  _ My one night stand and/or boyfriend? is involved in a gang and I’ve just found out _ so they settled on the small couch in Johnny’s living room instead. Both cupped their hands around around steaming mugs of tea. 

“Were you going to mention it?”

“Duh, Johnny. If we kept this... _ this _ … up I mean. Do you think I’m stupid enough to this this could be hidden?” Taeyong nodded to his still exposed wolf. Nevermind the tattoo blatantly on his chest. “I just wasn’t expecting our first time out of the public to be soju-filled and, if I can be very honest with you, I was much more focused on having sex with you.”

Johnny laughed loudly at that, nearly snorting tea out of his nose. “Sorry. I mean, I was focused on that too don’t get me wrong. A-and don’t think I’m not interested anymore either! Just uh…”

“It’s a mood killer,” Taeyong sighed, “why else do you think I haven’t had sex in...well...ever?”

“Woah woah woah wait,” Johnny cut in. “You’re telling me you were going to lose your virginity to me after we both had a few bottles of soju?”

“Uh...yes?” 

Johnny’s hands started waving frantically. “No way Taeyong! That’s not-... you do those sorts of things later. Your first time should be something really good! I’m glad we stopped.”

_ The fuck, _ Taeyong thought, head tilting. Gut reaction told him to counter with  _ “who are you to decide what I should do” _ but that acquiesced to marveling in how cute this six foot something man could be. Johnny was so concerned about the goodness of Taeyong’s first time. Maybe he was flattered? “Whatever you say Johnny,” he laughed. “You talk so highly but are you going to give me that?”

The answer was yes. But not before a nice, homemade pizza dinner courtesy of Johnny and his American upbringing accompanied by a movie. Perhaps Taeyong was a little startled by the gentleness of the night Johnny had insisted on,  _ and planned. _ Here he was, this big bad gang member; the delinquent of their former university, being treated to the cheesiest date in history. He was officially calling it a date, too; and them dating.

Taeyong wasn’t so sure but he felt like Johnny was deliberately keeping alcohol out of the occasion. When he said, “I bought drinks!” he set two bubble teas before them. Which,Taeyong  _ loved _ bubble tea so he certainly wasn’t going to complain. But he didn’t know how they were going to go from full stomachs and sweet drinks to...sex. Or, that was until Johnny set Taeyong’s half finished tea aside to crawl over him. Taeyong’s eyes went wide, cheeks flushing. He wasn’t very good at most things without the aid of alcohol. Work “meetings,” going out, being  _ flirty _ all begged for intoxicated assistance. Without it, all Taeyong could do was stare until Johnny leaned in for a deep kiss. His hands gripped Johnny’s firm biceps, eyes squeezing tightly shut when he moaned into the other’s mouth. Johnny had slipped his knee between Taeyong’s legs and was teasing just a bit too much. 

“J-johnny, please,” he gasped, trembling a bit as his head fell back. Johnny took the opportunity to nip at his neck, smirking against his skin. 

“My name sounds nice like that,” he chuckled low in his chest and it downright reverberated through Taeyong’s whole being,

“L-like what?”

“Gasped from your lips. Let’s see if we can do it again.” He sucked hard into Taeyong’s collarbone and the slightly younger male yelped. “What kind of gang member...You’re so sensitive.”

“Taking punches and taking hickies are two  _ very _ different things!” Taeyong protested. It only made Johnny laugh harder.

“Definitely a virgin in one of those things.” 

Taeyong mustered all the strength he could to fling Johnny off of both his body and the couch in semi-joking frustration but his size and weight, and the position they were in with his thigh  _ just _ pressed against Taeyong’s cock, left him helpless in the face of Johnny’s teasing. “You’re the worst,” he groaned.

“You’re not going to say that when I’m done with you.” 

Cold hands slipped under the fabric of Taeyong’s dark hoodie and he shivered. Johnny was right. He  _ was _ sensitive. He also had a bit of a submissive complex, loved being cared for, and boasted a strong praise kink that he’d never explored but knew was there. Johnny was tapping into two of these three things and if he hit the third Taeyong would be puddy beneath him. He arched up again when Johnny began playing with his nipples and shuddered as he leaned in to attack his neck again. The slide of his tongue was a warm, welcome contract to the chill hitting his skin as his clothes were slowly pushed away form his body. But Johnny’s own warmth soon settled on top of him and more than compensated. 

When Taeyong’s torso was stripped bare Johnny paused to let a finger follow over the lines of ink. They hadn’t gone into details yet. Taeyong’s heart thudded so hard in his chest he was sure Johnny could feel it under his touch, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he leaned in, kissing the crown and the wolf slowly. A message was being conveyed through his lips but Taeyong couldn’t catch it. Instead he let those thoughts get chased away with white hot pleasure when Johnny’s tongue circled over a nipple and he began to suck hard (at Taeyong’s whined request). 

“Johnny please… I’m tired of your teasing I want more.”

“Tired? Please,” Johnny smirked, shaking his head out until a strand of raven black hair fell over his right eye. “You can’t get enough of this.”

Taeyong bit into his lip. It was hard trying to be so stoic and strong when he was feeling malleable and needy. His friends often called him a tsundere, squishy soft under his cold gaze exterior. Being a tsundere sucked. “I...I can’t,” he relented, exhaling a shaky breath. “But I  _ want _ more. Please…Just,” his palm cupped the erection pressing against Johnny’s jeans and elicited a soft, low groan as reward. But Johnny shook his head. “Not yet. We’re not ready yet.”

It took a lot of self control for Johnny to peel himself away from Taeyong and onto unsteady feet. He offered over a hand before leading them both to his bed. Taeyong had yet to be here. The crisp white sheets and pillows looked perfectly clean, especially against the black bedpost. Taeyong noted how empty Johnny’s room looked: walls covered in only a few framed images of landscapes and everyday objects, desk perfectly organized, pillows hardly out of place. Compared to clean freak Taeyong’s room (who boasted half completed collections of manga strewn over most surfaces and a few music posters hung haphazardly about) Johnny seemed like the god of neatness. Also cold… there was little personality held in this space, especially compared to the beam of golden sunlight named Johnny Suh.

He couldn’t think much longer on the subject when he was quite literally, and gently, tossed onto the bed. Sweet scents of clean linen and chamomile surrounded Taeyong, confirming that the faint smell that often lingered in his hair and on his clothes really was Johnny. He liked it. He liked Johnny crawling back over him more. 

“Mind taking your jeans off for me?” He whispered against the shell of Taeyong’s ear. Nimble fingers quickly obliged, opening his belt and undoing the buttons. “Nice.”

“Nice?” Taeyong laughed. “How ‘bro’ of you.”

“Would you rather I call you a,” his voice dipped to new levels of low and sultry, “‘good boy’?”

“A-aaah…” Taeyong gasped, body giving its affirmation before his tongue could properly catch up.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he leaned in and capture Taeyong in another sweet, sloppy kiss. “Is it a yes, Taeyong?”

He nodded furiously, mouth trapped, tongues locked, teeth clashing a little bit. 

“Good,” another chuckle as Johnny broke away. “ _ Good boy. _ ”

The night was planned out to the last details, Taeyong realized when Johnny reached past his head on the pillow and pulled out a small bottle of lubricant and a few condoms. He shot him a look, one part surprised at the location and another  _ “just how many times did you think we were going to fuck?”  _ Johnny merely smiled back, poured a generous amount onto his hand, and set off on preparing Taeyong for the rest of the night-- with permission of course.

Sex was something that Taeyong concerned himself with up to a point. He’d always wanted to, especially on particularly long nights after particularly frustrating missions, when he’d grab a fistful of lotion and tissues and take care of himself. He’d wondered what it’d be like; another person. Coming home to warm arms and unspoken comforts and endless nights of thought disrupting fun. That was the thing-- Taeyong had caught himself in a loop of wanting one person to dedicate himself too and feeling unable to do so with the nature of his work or the dreams in his head. By the time he and Johnny had consumed too much soju and wordlessly agreed to the night so rudely interrupted by Taeyong’s tattoos he had given up on the ideal of giving his whole heart once and just wanted to have fun with the beautiful boy who kept inviting him out to dinner. But now… now Taeyong wondered when he had fallen far deeper than intended.

Johnny gave him no time to dwell. Taeyong, breached by two fingers, was too distracted by the feeling of someone  _ else _ broaching him and Johnny’s lips easing the tension on slightly less sensitive parts of his body that he couldn’t split focus further. His nails dug into Johnny’s shoulders, despite the cooing of “Easy baby, easy. You’re almost ready.”

“Please,” Taeyong choked back. “Please…”

“Okay, okay.” Johnny’s fingers pulled out with a soft pop. 

He must be seasoned because it took him no time at all to strip down completely. And  _ lord _ Taeyong was lucky, wasn’t he? His hand traced around the the outline of his pecs and into the slightly formed dips of his abs, latent under his skin but firmly there. Johnny had himself wrapped up in no time, discarding the condom wrapper into the wastebin by his desk. When he crawled over Taeyong again he was somehow softer than before, despite their current position-- though maybe that was just Taeyong’s perception of sex. He didn’t watch the most tasteful pornography. 

“You ready?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah," Taeyong bit into his bottom lip. “Ready.”

Johnny’s voice flooded Taeyong’s like music, a sultry baritone carried forth in the form of a low groan. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Taeyong whimpered back. All his hard edges and defensive walls were crumbled upon the ground. He didn’t have the energy for witty quips or comments that would pull a pout to Johnny’s full lips. He just wanted to let go as Johnny carefully started to pull his hips back and the drive them forward again. And fortunately, it seemed Johnny was thrilled to give him just that. Slow and steady until Taeyong had to beg for more. He knew he liked to be punished. He knew that out of every injury he’d sustained over the past only one had ever made his breath hitch awkwardly and albeit ironically. He wasn’t proud of the things that turned him on but he wasn’t going to withhold his own indulgence. Not when he had this now (and not when he wasn’t sure if he could have this again). A trembling hand gathered one of Johnny’s against his palm and he pulled it from the light bruises he was marking in his hips to splay fingers across his throat. Dark eyes glistened, glancing up, too innocently for the request; a softly squeaked out “Please?” before pressing Johnny’s palm down. The other blinked back his uncertainty and obliged with just the smallest amount of pressure. “You like that?” he whispered, hoping to supplement the very faint, light choking with rougher words to compensate for his fear of hurting Taeyong. 

“Y-yeah…”

He pressed just a little more, hips angling to drive upward into Taeyong and get him screaming for release. It came quick (or, well, he came quick), between Johnny’s pounding against his sweet spot and the hand around his neck. And Johnny orgasmed after, trembling and buried as deep into Taeyong as possible. His body stilled, shivered, and then he all but collapsed onto the smaller male, wrapping him up tight into his arms. 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Taeyong’s chest rose and fell quickly to catch his breath and it carried Johnny in the motion with him. He couldn’t help but laugh. 

Taeyong’s head fell back against the pillows with a long sigh and his body only moved when the force of Johnny, after removing himself and discarding the used condom, falling to his side caused the mattress to launch him upward.  _ Wow _ , he thought, still shivering with aftershocks. “Wow,” he said, using what little energy he had to roll onto his side and open his eyes to take in the other. Sweat shined on Johnny’s nice skin and though his hair was more messy now than Taeyong had ever seen it, was tousled in a way that looked fitting for the other male. He decided that Johnny should tease it out more. 

“Feel good?” Johnny beamed, quick to gather Taeyong back into his arms and rest his chin on his shoulder.

“So good. You’re...really good at this.”

Taeyong couldn’t see the smirk but he could feel it 500%. “I know.”

“Have you...done this a lot?” He was genuinely curious but the question betrayed a few of the inherent insecurities Taeyong was trying to keep down. 

“What’s a lot? A few time here or there with cuties I pick up at the clubs,” he squeezed Taeyong a little tighter but when he involuntarily tensed was quick to whisper “I’m kidding I’m kidding. I have some times. Going out is my stress relief and if someone seems nice enough and they want to come back here who am I to say no?”

“Makes sense…” Taeyong wouldn’t know, considering this was his one (1) time having sex. “What about  _ your _ first then?”

“Beautiful girl from high school back home. Prom night, senior year. Kind of cliche; we like...only did it because we felt we had to. The car was so cramped.”

“Car?”

“Yeah. I like this better. Bed’s are nicer.” He tugged Taeyong closer and then whispered, “you’re nicer.” 


	2. Part II

Taeyong’s two-fold secrets were now out in the open but what about Johnny? He was no gang member. Actually his “secret” was no secret at all, Taeyong just hadn’t done his research. Heir to Seo pharmaceuticals, Johnny wasn’t just studying to become a doctor, he was being primed to assume a medical empire. Though, Taeyong soon learned, it wasn’t _Johnny Suh_ doing that but Seo Youngho. And he was very peculiar about keeping the two separate. Johnny was the fun one who could DJ at warehouse raves and treat Taeyong to cute dates. Even in graduate school, Youngho was confined to a rigorous schedule of mandatory video chatting check-ins with his mother dispersed throughout demanding study sessions. Being top of the class was no easy task but Youngho had learned to master it with relative ease--or at least present himself like he had, sneaking focus aids in the form of tiny white tablets every so often at the behest of his parents. Really, even with his own two jobs, Taeyong found Johnny’s life to be much more unforgiving. Scheduled down to the last moment, Taeyong couldn’t understand where or _how_ Johnny had found the time to take him out on as many dates as he had.

“You can’t keep sacrificing your free time to be with me,” he said one day, midterm exams on the horizon. He feared for the bags forming under Johnny’s eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“My free time is far more valuable with you,” Johnny replied after stifling a yawn, which prompted a look from Taeyong so he pouted. “It...might not always be like this Taeyong. So I want to take the chances I can get.”

There was a countdown clock on their relationship. The inevitable _“this can’t work out forever”_ because while they may not be Romeo and Juliet, their worlds aren’t the type to collide. Taeyong thought about it often. Day in and day out-- another chance to see Johnny, another meal to prepare together, another night shared in his bed. One day down, only however many more to go. It plagued him endlessly, left him feeling alone on nights when Johnny’s crisp cotton scent and strong arms wrapped him up warmer than a blanket.

Taeyong can’t leave the gang yet. Even if he wanted to now he has nowhere else in Seoul to go, no marketable skills and an unclean record. His time served keeps the rest of the gang away from his mom after his father borrowed money on the family’s behalf, opened up her restaurant then fled to Taiwan with a mistress. Taeyong had offered himself up as compensation, 15 years old and nimble enough to pickpocket. He didn’t really _want_ to quit either. Not while he’s still around, anyway. They’re his family too now; younger and older brother of sorts dependent on their rank. And were he to want to throw it away for Johnny he knows Youngho’s life wouldn’t take to him kindly. Taeyong had always reasoned it was better for Johnny that way. Less burdens and things.

Especially because when Taeyong decides it’s time to get away, the only dream he’s held fast to since his teenage years, he _really_ wanted to get away. Not out of the gang or his house; but as far away from here as possible.

For now he chose the path of revelling in every moment he could. He refined his personally named ‘ninja’ abilities, sitting dead silent in the corner of Johnny’s bedroom while Youngho video chatted his mother. He took to speed washing dishes in order to bring hot leftovers to Johnny’s place at night. A fixture in Johnny’s life whenever the opportunity arose--and Taeyong took every chance he’d get.

X

Taeyong stirred, sunlight streaking warm across his face from the gaps in Johnny’s curtains. He rolled over, knocking over the copy of Romeo and Juliet they unearthed from a box of Johnny’s American high school things in order to throw quotes between one another. Now he could press his face against Johnny’s back, cuddle up to him, turning Johnny into the little spoon he always loved to be.

Johnny moved maybe ten minutes later. Some good graces of the Gods had his mother too busy that morning to check in on him so he was indulging in sleeping until 9AM. His hands covered Taeyong’s first, shoulders shimmying until there was no space left between their chests and backs. “Good morning,” his I-just-woke-up voice was somehow leagues deeper, and much rougher than his typical tone and Taeyong shivered in delight. He second favorite sound, right after Johnny moaning Taeyong’s own name.

“Morning.”

Johnny shifted around. Resting his hands on Taeyong’s thin hips he pressed the tips of their noses together and then sleepily blinked his eyes open. “Missed you.” He kissed the corner of his lips.

“We were just sleeping.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

“You sap.” Taeyong kissed him more properly.

They always mean to get up and cook breakfast together but they always end up rolling around Johnny’s queen sized bed for at least an hour; two if they have sex again. Today Johnny’s focus was on his chest, tongue trailing over familiar lines across his skin. His crown. ‘You do this a lot,” Taeyong commented, voice caught between light and strangled with pleasure. “K-kiss my tattoos I mean. What’s up with that?”

“Does it bother you?” Johnny’s lips brushed Taeyong’s skin as he asked. He didn’t glance up for a few moments, then his eyes shifted up to gaze from behind his eyelashes.

“No...it’s not that.” Though Taeyong wasn’t exactly sure what it was either. “I just don’t know why. Seems like a weird thing to pay attention to.”

“You’re going to laugh at me if I tell you why.”

“I’ll laugh at you regardless,’ Taeyong countered with a smirk.

“Touche…” Johnny pouted and pulled back, tugging Taeyong upward until they were eye level, leaving a hand to stay against Taeyong’s side. “I just feel like they carry a lot of...weight I guess. I don’t know the things you do but when I think back to the time we met and how beaten up you were, and even all the times we meet after your work now when you’re nursing a new injury or trying to cover bruises, I get worried. I haven’t been there for so many hardships and I don’t think I’m even doing a good job now being there for the new ones. So when I pay attention here…” he tapped that wolf’s claw, “it feels like I’m giving you strength or healing old wounds. That’s what I want it to be anyway.”

Taeyong stared back at Johnny for a moment. Sweet, endlessly caring Johnny. A boy too good for this world. Taeyong linked his fingers with the ones still trailing over his ribs, gathered Johnny’s hands into his own, and pressed his lips to his palm. “I get it…” He said softly. He started to kiss each of Johnny’s fingers. “You don’t have the same outward marks as me but there’s a lot that I know you do. And a lot that I know you’ve been through. If I could kiss it away I would.” Taeyong’s shoulders slumped a bit, body arched. Every day they spent together was a blessing, but each that passed was beginning to bring an end they could both feel. Johnny would be graduating soon and that could mean so many things Taeyong hadn’t askeda bout because he didn’t want to know yet. But at some point Johnny would need to shed his gang member boyfriend so that Youngho could assume his rightful position.

“Silly,” Johnny chuckled, pulling Taeyong from his spiral. “There’s a very obvious place for you to kiss.” He tapped the edge of Taeyong’s jaw, tilting inquiring eyes up to match warm and loving ones. Then he leaned in for a kiss. “See? All better.”

Oof. Taeyong spent years trying to harden his naturally sentimental nature. _“When I give my heart to someone that’s it, only once”_ was a part of him he had tried to numb and sever with years of gang brawls and alcohol, but Johnny had dragged it all back out of him. Johnny looked at him not with judgment like their former classmates but understanding and, God help him, love. And Taeyong loved Johnny too. Loved him too much to just let him go. The world could have Youngho but Taeyong wanted Johnny.

“Are you crying?” Johnny asked in a breathy and incredulous tone. “Oh _baby_ what’s wrong?” His thumbs swiped away black liner filled tears.

“Nothing,” Taeyong choked back, raising the back of his hand to cover his trembling lips.

“This doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Shut up.”

“Aw,” He tugged Taeyong to his chest. “Going all hard on me right now?”

Hands primed on Johnny’s chest to push away Taeyong instead ended up molded around him, elbows bent between their bodies and face buried in the crook of his neck which only prompted him to sob harder. “It _is_ nothing. It is I just…” His shoulders deflated with a sigh. “I’m going to miss you. When we can’t do this anymore, I mean. I’m going to miss your kindness. I finally...feel like a human again when I’m with you. Not some alcohol ingesting punk.”

“You’ve _never_ been that Taeyong.”

“Bullshit. I know you know what’s been said about me. I know how it goes.”

“Doesn’t mean that’s what you _are_ ,” Johnny was trailing his fingers through Taeyong’s gray blond hair now. “You’ve always been human babe. To me, to your mom, to most of the world. Just because a few people miss out on that, just because your job asks that of you, doesn’t mean it’s true.” 

Taeyong shook his head and cried harder. “It’s not even that…” He muttered. “I...I don’t care really about that. I just care about you. I love you Johnny,” they both took pause. “And I… don’t want to stop.”

He hadn’t said it yet, had he? The way Johnny stilled confirmed it. Taeyong thought about it a lot; all the ways he loved Johnny from his huge romantic gestures down to the littlest things like the way he was wiping his tears now. It was out in the air between them and it left Taeyong feeling vulnerable. Maybe if they could have forever he wouldn’t have minded but...they both knew their timer was ticking down. A lot acted in opposition between them. And now Taeyong felt sure his confession might’ve just burdened them further. He had just started to pull away when Johnny returned with, “I love you too.”

They finished that afternoon together with takeout and bad American comedy movies. Unchanged and yet entirely different. Three words with all the weight in the world. Three words they shared more closely than they shared their alma mater or their penchant for duality.

In the middle of another lazy Sunday cuddle session the doorbell rang and Taeyong moved to answer. “Stay,” he all but commanded. “Today is all about you resting.” And they wouldn’t have to worry about who saw Taeyong where. Or so he thought? Johnny was quick to tug him back down to the couch. “I’ve got it. ‘Sokay,” and he punctuated it with his trademark grin that always melted Taeyong into place. Even if he wanted to protest Johnny was already at the door by the time he regained his thoughts.

“What is it?” He called instead, shifting to his knees to peer over the back of the couch.

“Just something from back home.”

“Home? Chicago? But aren’t your parents here?

“They are…” Johnny let out a hum to cover up the silence his pause would caused otherwise. “But from other family back home.”

“Oh.” Taeyong extended his arms to see further. “What’s in it?”

“Nothing special,” Johnny carried the small box back over to the couch. He wanted to not; to tuck the box away for later, but Taeyong’s curious eyes wouldn’t let go. Or rather, to him, they were pinning him down and left him unable to lie to his boyfriend. He let out a sigh, pristine nails picking at the edge of the packaging tape. Visibly filled with only inflated stuffing, Johnny soon fished out a small orange pill bottle, English on the label. Taeyong noticed his name, “Johnny Suh,” but was lost in the other words like “prescription” and “Ritalin.” Johnny tossed it back and forth between his hands, cotton stuffing keeping the contents from rattling too hard. “They’re just to help me study since midterms are coming. Dad says America has the best stuff so he imported it for me.”

 _That’s not legal,_ Taeyong thought, finally tearing his eyes from the bottle and placing them back onto Johnny. He knew because his pills also aren’t legal either and are sourced from the same country, come in similar bottles. But he kept his lips shut. Johnny already seemed to shift uncomfortably beneath the weight of Taeyong’s innocently intended questioning and what was in his hands. Surely he knew, he wouldn’t have insisted on answering the door otherwise. There’s tension forming between them now that Taeyong needed to alleviate, so he put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder and smiled until it creases his eyed. “Gotcha. Should’ve known you had a hook up.” He winked and Johnny laughed, tossing the box and its contents aside to pull Taeyong into his arms instead.

He kept thinking about them though… those pills. He did his research too. Ritalin. Taeyong learned it was supposed to counter symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder; two things Johnny didn’t seem to have just from reading their descriptions alone. But maybe Taeyong just didn’t know? Johnny hadn’t told him everything, didn’t have to honestly, and Taeyong kept his own secrets too. Maybe these pills were why he hadn’t noticed earlier.

After the package arrived he tried to recount the number of alarms he started to hear ring from Johnny’s phone before he’d steal away to take one. The internet said 2 to 3 times a day, but Taeyong recalled more. Maybe? Maybe he was just driving himself crazy with concern. Midterms were approaching and Johnny’s demands were more rigorous. Less sleep, more coffee. It made sense that study aids would be increased too but... thing was, these pills looked so much like the things he peddled on the regular and he knew what those were like. Knew that just one was enough to knock a guy on his ass and have him stumbling through the rest of the night. He’d seen it before and experienced it once (only once, never again). Three or more times made him nervous.

“You look like shit,” Taeil commented, nudging Taeyong’s focus back to him as he parked their getaway car.

“I feel like shit,” Taeyong muttered, shaking the other’s elbow away from him.

“Because you can’t see your boy?”

“Yeah that’s exactly why.” He snipped back with a lie. Being unable to see Johnny sucked but not as much as being unable to _take care_ of him when Taeyong was sure he needed it. The world of graduate school was still so foreign to him but everyone needed comfort somehow, right? Taeil wasn’t worth sharing these thoughts with. “Not all of us are as lucky as you; _both_ boyfriends in the same gang.”

Taeil held his hands up innocently. “Hey hey. Don’t get mad at _me_ because I went the route that landed me Yuta and Winwin. You could’ve too.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong _could have_. But he didn’t. He didn’t intend to end up with Johnny either, all things considered, but he fell too hard to fast and wasn’t the type to let go. It was just fucking him up now. “Whatever. You’re right Taeil. Like always.” He reached for the single shot bottle tucked into his back pocket, twisted the cap away and downed it. “I’m just gonna get this over with.”

As Taeyong slicked his hair up to make himself look a little more antagonizing, Johnny brushed his back with a sigh. One of the few nights they were forced to be apart and he couldn’t stop thinking about Taeyong. His Taeyong. The love of his life. Taeyong was so good about letting him study when they were together and Johnny knew he owed it to them both to work hard while he was away and working too. But for the life of him, even with his well organized notes and clean textbooks before him, he just couldn’t think of anything other than being in his boyfriend’s arms, nipping at his ear, maybe even sharing soup he had made just for the two of them. 

A mechanical pencil twirled between his fingers, cheek rested against fist, elbow supporting his weight atop his desk. He probably read the same four lines ten times over. One night wouldn’t hurt him, right? If he just so happened to miss a few hours of reading these texts he could make it up later. Taeyong was always so good at motivating him. He just wanted that now. He glanced to his phone. He couldn’t call the other while was working but he did press the home button to check the time. 21:35. So he probably just started whatever he was up to but would be back in another hour and a half or so. Johnny could wait, he decided as he swiped away reminder notifications, after all he had to since-- His jumped, the phone beneath his fingertips buzzing aggressively with a call from his mother. “Oh fuck,” he breathed out, checking the calendar. Her business trip ended that afternoon and he’d forgotten about her call. Lulled into a false state of security with her abroad and Taeyong in his arms Johnny was starting to panic. He placed his phone in a holder on his shelf, just eye level so she couldn’t see his books in front of him, and then slipped his notes to either side. Subtle cheats she hopefully wouldn’t catch. But would it be enough? Johnny had been so focused on being so...happy...that he didn’t know how to resort back to the rather monotonous ways of before. One last thing, he thought, catching an orange flash from the corner of his eyes. This could bring the Youngho she wanted back while Johnny stayed floating in thoughts of Taeyong. He popped a pill between his lips and swallowed, swiping “accept” in the knick of time.

Pulling his headphones from his ears after Johnny dropped his head to the desk. He’d just managed. Though she couldn’t go a call without berating him usually, at least this time he got off with only a few scoldings and some sideying when he took a couple extra seconds too long to give his, ultimately correct, answers. That was too close for comfort, though, And he needed to shake away any remnant distractions of Taeyong (not his fault, and Johnny would never blame him for his own missteps). Johnny took his phone back off its stand and flipped it off for the night. 

He found over the course of the next few week that the task was impossible. This material was neither new nor hard and yet he just kept _fucking up_. He could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his head, equipped with the same study cards, questioning his want to succeed. Shrill and nauseating, he’d have it in person soon if he didn’t improve before their nightly check in. He shook his head out, shaking away Johnny who was easily distracted and too often indulged in other things in order to put Youngho into place. Long fingers reached for the bottle at the end of his desk and he popped two tablets into his palm. These would help Youngho too.

And it was Youngho who started to greet Taeyong on the evenings he could make it over; whose smile couldn’t reach his contact-wearing eyes. Who, despite the grayish tone to his skin, the bags under his eyes, and the level of exhaustion that hindered his steps, looked like near picture perfection--crisp and clean clothes, white button down tucked into dark slacks, no glasses and just the right amount of covering and accentuating makeup. Youngho stayed rigid in Taeyong’s hold, and by the time he began melting into Johnny Taeyong often had to leave for the day’s work.

It distracted Taeyong. Between the cold attitude and the extra pills (Taeyong was sure, he was counting now and the numbers didn’t seem right) he wondered how much of his boyfriend was going to make it out after this exam period. And he worried if this might as well be the remnants of their timer; if there was something salvageable would they even have time for redemption.

These thoughts that he needed to set aside for work persisted like leeches in the back of his brain. Enough that even quiet and calculating Winwin called him to attention before their mission, after Yuta had pointed it out.

“I’m fine guys,” He scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “I’m ready. Just let me take this.”

“I wait for the day that you forget your 2,000 won shot bottles and have to go at it on your own merits. Trust yourself more Wolf boy.”

Taeyong cocked a brow and smirked over to Yuta. The other, his same age friend, always had his own way of providing motivation. Strange as it may seem to an onlooker, Taeyong certainly found strength.

“Not today, Fox,” he laughed, chucking the empty plastic towards his Japanese teammate. “Try next time.”

The bag of goods he slung over his shoulder was nothing short of hefty and he checked his pockets to make sure they were empty save his switchblade (a precaution) and his phone. “C’mon,” he waved the other two over. “Let’s get it.”

X

“Wait, Taeyong! Watch out!”

Sensory overload was the term for it, or at least he thought? Bright light blinded his eyes, the feeling in his body went coldly numb and his ears were ringing from the gunshots. It wasn’t until his body, thrown back by the force of the attack, hit the ground that he could begin to comprehend. The pain came first--white hot and all encompassing, stemming from his chest and spreading down his limbs. Then the realization, the desperation at being shot three times and unsure of what to do now. He winced at the sound of further shooting, only unfolding from himself when Yuta pried his knees from his chest and shouted “Stay with me, hey!” in a repeated mix of Japanese and Korean. Okay, he could do that. He could stay here. He clutched Yuta’s bicep tightly, willing his gaze to focus. “Stay with you,” he repeated, weakly, until blood coughed up between his lips.

“Shit.”

Taeyong smirked. One of those times when he and Yuta really agreed. The Japanese male hoisted Taeyong into his arms and took off, shouting “Winwin pull back!” over his shoulder. The youngest caught up to them at lightning quick speed and he’d already got Taeil on the phone trying to coordinate the best meeting point.

“They weren’t supposed to have weapons?” Taeil’s voice crackled through the receiver of Winwin’s burner phone. “What the hell guys this was just a selling mission.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought too,” Taeyong heard Yuta spit out. Winwin shot him a look he couldn’t catch but felt just from the way Yuta’s muscles tensed and slackened. Something telling him to stand down in a way only Winwin could do. Something about it all prompted laughter from Taeyong, a bloody sputtering mess from his lips and onto his shirt. He just hoped his necklace stayed clean; that was a present from Johnny.

“Oh my god,” Taeil gasped, peering from the driver’s seat. “Apply pressure but...but fuck. I don’t think Doc can take care of that.”

‘He _has_ to,” Yuta shot back, pressing a spare t-shirt down onto the three open wounds in Taeyong’s chest. “This mission was stupid. It’d be stupid if he died like this.”

Died? Taeyong wasn’t going to die, was he? Though the edges of his vision were getting blurry and his thoughts could only extend as far as laughter, he didn’t think he’d die. But what about Johnny? Could he go without saying goodbye to Johnny?

Taeyong lurched upward, gasping out the other’s name. He had to see him. He had to see him _now_. If this were to be it…

“Sit _down,_ ” Yuta forced him back as Taeil kicked the car into gear and sped off. “You’ll see him. Relax. Let us take care of you.”

Taeyong choked on a mix of sobbing and blood, hands now struggling against Yuta’s firm hold. “W-wait…”

“Don’t speak,” Winwin urged from the from passenger position. “Taeyong you’ll be okay if you don’t speak.”

This was no longer a guarantee and Taeyong knew that. He felt it with each second slipping away along with his strength. If he could just see Johnny...then it wouldn’t matter. He should take this as the will forcing him forward. But, as he laid in the backseat of Taeil’s beat up car, body bouncing with the trigger of each pothole, he was realizing he’d grown tired of running towards whatever he was trying to attain. Considering his only dream had been to leave, he was thinking he was ready to go.

“Yuta, keep him still,” Winwin begged only to be met back with a sharp, “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“This isn’t the time to fight you two,” Taeil’s voice interjected. “Focus. Keep his focus.”

That was gone, though maybe the others didn’t realize. Voices melting, shadows obscuring their faces. Taeyong’s eyes had shipped shut when Yuta had turned; long enough to bring curses to the slightly younger male’s lips. “Step on it Taeil. You have to.”


	3. Part III

There was a lightness in Taeyong’s chest but a weight in his wrists--on his left one in particular. He was floating, nearly; tethered to the ground like a balloon by its string, someone holding fast to his hand. If he could be let go… then maybe he could escape this incessant beeping and the chilled sterile smell surrounding him. If he could be let go then maybe his chest would stop hurting. But something squeezed at his hand and beckoned him back from the clouds until he was finding unsteady footing and blinking tired eyes open.

A white wall, a loud machine, a string of tubes coming out of his skin and connecting to bags of unidentifiable fluids. Johnny could probably tell him what they were, had he not been bent over with his forehead pressed to the edge of the bed and-- “Johnny?” Taeyong’s voice felt foreign in his own throat. It left him wondering how long he’d gone without using it.

Johnny stirred momentarily then surged upright. “Taeyong?” His eyes were bright red and clearly swollen behind the glasses Taeyong had hardly ever seen him wear.

“Johnny?”

Johnny twitched as if to hug Taeyong but caught himself at the last second. Too much machinery he didn’t want to fuck around with. He opted to squeeze the hand he’d been holding for as long as his visiting hours would allow. “...Welcome back.”

Taeyong’s tongue swiped over his very dry lips. “T-thank you.” Back...he had to recall where his memories ended and the ballooning begun. Back in the car--no, before the car. In the hideaway where a quick shakedown turned into a bloodbath. Taeyong winced at the memories, at the lingering feeling of being pierced by lead. He noticed now that he was behind a breathing mask and that it was obstructing his vision. Shifting to take it off, Johnny jumped to his feet and hurriedly stopped him. “D-don’t!”

Taeyong tilted his head, pulling his hands back and Johnny’s settled on readjusting the mask.

“Just...don’t mess with anything right now. It’s here for a reason. I don’t want to risk it.” He leaned in to press his lips to the plastic and then bent down after to pick up the orange bottle that had fallen from his pocket. His imported focus pills. Taeyong wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for, but the shaking in the bottle didn’t seem to coordinate properly with the time. When they’d last met Johnny had opened up a fresh one; his second delivery in all that time. He watched the other take out a few too many until the bottle was empty, catch his error, and put two back. His hand shook as he placed it between his lips and dry swallowed. That was new too; where did Taeyong’s big baby go?

He glanced between the two of them. Johnny, pale with heavy, dark bags underneath his glass-rimmed eyes, who seemed to shiver with even a passing breeze; who had been withering even before Taeyong’s brush with death. For the first time in what felt like months Taeyong had _Johnny_ back and it felt so...bittersweet. And then there was Taeyong himself, wire bound to a hospital bed he surely couldn’t afford without dipping into the reserves he’d kept from all his gang commissions. His rainy day fund. Fuck...was it pouring now?

“Johnny,” he whispered, spreading his fingers to beckon the other’s hand into his own. He leaned in, hair falling out of place when his head tilted.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s leave this town.”

Johnny blinked, “What?”

What? That kind of summed up Taeyong’s own response to his own words. But, just as he’d blurted out his confession, it lingered between them now. And he could only hope it would rectify the immediate past.

“Let’s leave. Let’s go.” The more he said it the more firm the idea felt in his mind. Just the two of them taking off and going Gods knew where.

“W-...” Johnny stuttered, paused. “Where?”

“Anywhere. I bet we could figure it out. Busan. Tokyo. Taipei. Even Chicago.”

Something flickered in Johnny’s eyes at the mention of his hometown but was extinguished right away. “Taeyong...you know I-”

“I know. You have responsibilities to your family. You have an empire to inherit but Johnny...Johnny look at you. Look at how it’s killing you.” Taeyong knew because he was in the _same boat_ and he suddenly felt so desperate to prove it. “Like _this_ is killing me.”

“I...I don’t think you can compare us,” Johnny looked more taken aback than Taeyong had ever seen him. He hadn’t meant offense he was just so _desperate_. Maybe this was the curse of loving someone. Maybe this was why Taeyong should never have given his heart over to Johnny in the first place but...but… Taeyong bit onto his lip. He couldn’t stay here. And he couldn’t leave Johnny. Not in this state. Because something deep down told him if Johnny was on his own he wouldn’t make it much further than this spot right here.

Taeyong shook his head side to side. “I won’t stay here. I don’t want to do this anymore. And when I leave...I want you to get rid of those pills and come with me.”

Both pairs of eyes fell to the tiny bottle. Johnny’s tongue dragged over his lips. “This isn’t your business…” The way he was trying to withhold firmly against Taeyong’s honesty was clear as day between them, but even clearer was his uncertainty. Johnny was weak against him--weak against the world actually. Just like how he couldn’t stand up to his parents, to these illegally imported focus aids, he couldn’t stand up to Taeyong now.

Taeyong exhaled into the facemask until it fully fogged up with hot breath. He wasn’t trying to manipulate Johnny by any means, but the lines between coercion and honesty when it came to people-pleasing Johnny were too thin and his footing was unbalanced. “Okay, fine. It’s not,” he returned, turning back from the other to settle into a position better suited for his “I just got shot three times in the chest and nearly died” state of being. He’d just woken up from a days long sleep and he was still _so_ tired. “I’m not fighting you Johnny. I’ve had enough of fighting. That’s why I want to go.” He glanced back up, brows quirked in sadness and concern, and was only met with an equally watery gaze. What a way to reunite.

Johnny slipped away not too long after, having squeezed out all of the small talk he could manage in the wake of their uncomfortable exchange, and left Taeyong feeling decidedly lost. It was stupid of him, wasn’t it? How could he think Johnny Suh would overpower Seo Youngho? He should’ve known. If his life were that laid out, too, maybe he would also be hesitant to run away from it all. Taeyong himself had only needed three things to make up his mind: first, ensured stability for his mother and her dream restaurant. She had met a new boyfriend, a businessman who took comfort in the quaintness of her life and wanted nothing more than to live out his life humbly. To Taeyong this meant washing dishes for eternity but who was he to say no? Next, the money to carry him away comfortably. He had paid his family debt by the time he entered his second year at university and started pocketing everything since. Between helping his mother, his own alcohol inclinations, and getting frequently swindled he didn’t have an incredible savings account but it was more than enough to get him by until a new job kicked on. And finally, maybe the most important, he needed the reason to go. Not dying was the best one yet.

These things had come together over the course of the last year. But Taeyong had met Johnny in that time and some switch in the back of his head kept him at “stay.” Stay longer. Stay until you can’t anymore. It took until now to realize how much his subconscious had shifted just to remain with one man. Maybe worse than that...it didn’t bother Taeyong as much as it probably should have.

Through his days of doctor’s check ups, blood tests, and brief rehabilitation he hoped Johnny would see him just once more. Others cycled through his visiting hours: his mother, Taeil, Yuta, and Winwin, both separately and in an overly rowdy group of three. He told them one by one his intent. Yuta laughed. Winwin stared. Taeil questioned. His mom begged. But he was resolute. His messy history and lack of passport wouldn’t get him far but he’d end up _somewhere_ and that was good enough for him. Somewhere whose dark alleys he didn’t now like the back of his hand, and without an underground scene he thoroughly pilfered. Somewhere he could, maybe, Gods willing, forget his one promise to _give my heart to someone, only once_ and start fresh. New life, new love. Johnny had really shown to him how nice all this romantic stuff could be. He just hoped he could find it in another.

His discharge date approached swiftly with no visit, no phone calls, and no messages. Taeyong checked the schedule and recalled Johnny’s midterms filling out the bulk of this week. He figured it made sense; he also resolved to sever this bond like an infected limb and erase what he could by the time he landed elsewhere. To avoid Johnny holding him down he figured there was no other way. He stared out the window, on his last day with the oxygen tank, and raised his fingers to the cool surface. The last kiss the shared. Sucked it had to be like this.

Taeyong told everyone not to show up once he was finally freed; especially not Taeil in that beat up getaway of his. And also not Yuta or Winwin because they would bring Taeil and Taeyong wasn’t prepared for that nightmare. He lied to his mom, too. Told her he had a ride when actually all he wanted was to feel his face in the warmth of the spring sun. He glanced up, eyes closing and a small smile tugging at his lips. This was what freedom felt like, huh?

“Hey.”

Taeyong’s eyes blinked open and he turned. “What.” _Oh._ “...Hey.”

Johnny looked good in his washed out jeans, hair product free for the first time in months and tousled only by the wind. Watching the dark black strands gently frame his face left Taeyong captivated. Perhaps he had died during last night’s sleep and this was his heaven? The weight of the new backpack Johnny tossed into his arms told him otherwise.

Coming to terms with this decision...it took Johnny a while. He completed his exams, scored higher than in the past and set the point difference between he and his fellow classmates apart by a margin of 15 more. But it meant nothing to him now. His parents had always shackled him to heavy weighted expectations but he’d always _liked_ school. Learning was a passion for him, even stuck in the context of his family’s wants. Just that now...it felt uncomfortable. The victory tasted bittersweet and the bottle of fine wine his parents sent in celebration had no merit. Not if he couldn’t share it, any of it, with Taeyong. Between long nights together, cooking meals, and slipping out quietly when he had work to do, Taeyong was the first person to truly embrace both Johnny and Youngho. He thought long and hard about what leaving would mean for his future, but he thought harder about what life would be like without Taeyong by his side. If it had to be one or the other, Johnny knew now which he wanted to do.

“Come on,” Johnny smiled, shifting from waving Taeyong over to closing the space between them and tugging on his arm. “We have somewhere to be.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Taeyong asked, feet following Johnny naturally through the parking lot to the car he clearly rented.

“You said it yourself right? It’s time to leave. I’m going with you.” He reached into his black bomber jacket pocket and pulled out a passport. Taeyong took it with caution, opening it up to find his own picture and a set of information that was only vaguely his own. His voice dropped low. “What is this?”

“The only way we’ll be able to get you out of Korea. Try to memorize as much as you can and then we’ll go over the rest of it on the plane.”

“Plane?” Taeyong was dumbstruck and far too giddy to really process it. Leaving? With Johnny? He might as well be a puppy with his tail wagging a mile a minute. He had to smack himself (lightly) to make sure he really was awake.

Johnny looked over a grinned, and despite still being very tired Taeyong knew this was the brightest Johnny had been since his pill delivery, since the night before where they debated Romeo and Juliet between rounds of indulgent pleasure. “You said you wanted to go to Chicago, right?”

Slipping into the passenger’s seat Taeyong took the chance to better read over his documents. “How did you do this…?” _How will we do this?_

“My best friend from high school. Ten’s a whiz at document forging, been making money off of underage college kids for almost a decade now. He expedited it to me here. I can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s letting us into his apartment for a bit until we settle into the city.”

“You’re joking... right? Sending me back home or something at the request of my mom? This isn’t real.”

Johnny reached over the center console to pinch Taeyong’s cheek. “Seems pretty real to me.”

“Johnny…” A thought--more like, a reality--dawned on him. “Are you not coming with me?”

“What? Of course I’m coming with you. Why would I send you to my hometown alone?”

Taeyong was surely convinced now that he died, and that confusion kept his anxiety at bay through the airport check in and customs process. It wasn’t until they were on the plane--Taeyong practically on his knees in the seat so he could peer out the window as Incheon grew smaller and smaller--that their reality really set in.

Johnny chuckled at him. A veteran of the fourteen hour flight between Chicago and Seoul, the magic that filled Taeyong’s eyes with this new experience struck him as quite charming.

“Babe, sit down before the flight attendants come by and yell at you.”

So he did, only to then slump against Johnny’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his bicep. He carefully linked their fingers together, too.

“Welcome back,” Taeyong said softly. “I’ve missed you, _Johnny_.”

X

Adapting wasn’t easy. Moving blindly brought its own slew of problems that Taeyong had expected, just not exactly thought through. It wasn’t hard for _him_ exactly. Taeyong was used to living on the fringes of society, so he felt little worry in regards to his status as a citizen, being found out or removed. With no roots other than Johnny, Taeyong was ready to go anywhere. And Ten’s help quickly landed an under-the-table restaurant job which brought its own set of weird abuses and protocols to answer too, not to mention the language barrier, but was way better than any gang. Though...if he needed to Yuta’s connections could hook him up here too.

Johnny on the other hand, despite being the native between them, had far more to cope with than either had really anticipated. The withdrawal symptoms were the big one. And Taeyong, being the semi sort-of drug expert of the group kicked himself for not thinking on it sooner.

“You’ll be okay…” He cooed each night, legs crossed underneath him next to the toilet that Johnny was hunched over. He’d been nauseous for days but nothing came from it. A hand ran up and down Johnny’s back, the other falling on top of Johnny’s own, fingers linking so he could give squeezes of support. “We’ll be okay, we’ll get through this.”

Johnny shook his throbbing head out from side to side. “I’m sorry, Taeyong. I’m sorry.” It’d become a mantra of sorts. In fact it was one of the few things that Johnny, caught in the throes of side effect sourced anxiety, would even say to him those days. If he had listened to Taeyong’s warnings sooner, maybe they’d both be better of right now.

“Shh…” Taeyong chided all the same, repeating, “We’ll get you through this.” And on all the nights that Johnny couldn’t sleep Taeyong stayed up with him. On all the applications he couldn’t concentrate on Taeyong helped him understand the details and fill in the forms. It wasn’t easy by any means but Taeyong had already taken so much from Johnny just to get him to move here and by some miracle even if his worst state Johnny didn’t hold that against him. The least he could do was give it back now.

And it happened eventually; after two or three weeks. Johnny came back to him in a whirlwind of tangled sheets and clinging to Taeyong tight the first morning he woke without headache or tragic thoughts; his “I’m sorrys” being replaced with “thank yous.”

“Of course,” Taeyong buried his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck, holding him as though they were in competition for who could grip the tightest. He had to try hard not to cry. “Of course. Of course.”

Soon after Johnny could round out his education through half baked internships under people who knew his name but couldn’t place it to a face. Hands on learning that was out of his skill set but no less enjoyable for the boy born to be scholar (even if he still didn’t know his Shakespearean classics as well as his boyfriend would like).

X

Taeyong never developed a liking for going out, even after nightlife and work became two very separate entities, yet somehow managed to room with three of the most outgoing, party-loving adults probably in the whole world.

“Come on,” Ten grinned, tugging on Taeyong’s mesh sleeve. “It’ll be fun! It’s always fun. He always enjoy yourself when it’s over.”

“Can’t you just bring _your_ boyfriend?” Taeyong whined in English, the language still feeling too foreign on his tongue despite the group’s constant praise and encouragement. “Why do I have to be part of this?”

“You’ll have fun,” Jeffrey Jung, Ten’s aforementioned boyfriend, chided teasingly. Taeyong shot him a look and moaned in quick Korean, “Jaehyun-ah _why_ are you torturing me like this.”

Jeffrey merely smirked back as Ten tugged Taeyong’s newly pierced earlobe and whispered, “I can understand you, you know!” Document forger by night, superb linguist by day, Taeyong couldn’t believe this was the company Johnny kept.

Speaking of…

“It’ll mean a lot for Johnny to see you there,” Ten, speaking the obvious, quickly kicked Taeyong out of their apartment and would have slammed the door behind him if Jaehyun didn’t catch it last second. “And we’re running late so go, go, go!”

The club was new enough that by going every other Friday Taeyong and crew had quickly become regulars. Jeffrey was usually on the DJing roster but tonight they’d convinced the owner to run amateur hour and Johnny was first up. He was giddy all morning, running sound bytes by Taeyong who just smiled and nodded and had next to no proper insight on the whole thing. “You’ll be great babe,” he offered in consolation. “They’ll love you.”

An understatement. Taeyong was sure he’d only ever seen the dance floor this packed with Jaehyun ‘headlined’ Saturday nights. So many bodies grinding and grooving that Ten and Taeyong needed to weasel their way through to get to the front. Thank the heavens for their rather equally small bodies, and sorry to Jeffrey for leaving him behind.

Taeyong felt shy as Ten slid behind him and started grinding Taeyong to a particularly fast beat. It was impossible to tell with the flash of the stage lights but somehow Taeyong knew Johnny’s eyes had found him. He could feel it and his cheeks flushed red in response. Ten loved embarrassing Taeyong on the dance floor almost as much as he loved getting Taeyong to groove through the whole night. Ten was cheeky like that, and mostly harmless except when...

“Hey, watch it,” Ten hissed under his breath to a particularly old duo of men who had taken it upon themselves to surround the two of them. Feisty as always, he stood at maybe their chest levels but was ready to fight if they laid their hands on him again. They did, and it was Taeyong who took the drunken hit to the face in retaliation; buying them enough time for Jeffrey to intervene and keep Ten at bay. WIth a small huff Taeyong hurried to the bathroom, shoving paper towels up his nose to stem the bleeding. Typical Ten, starting fights that Taeyong (a martyr of sorts to be honest) felt the brunt of. Sometimes he wondered if Ten was really just testing his limits in hopes of seeing “Gang sub-leader Taeyong” come out. But that was a wish Taeyong would never fulfill.

The door creaked open behind him, tall, broad, dark hair and handsome slipping inside. “Oh my god,” he chuckled out in English before asking in Korean, “are you okay?”

Taeyong snorted (bad move, more blood spurted from his nose) and had to bend over the sink in hopes of containing the choking cough it’d caused. “Oof, sorry, too much?” Johnny’s hand fell onto Taeyong’s back and smoothed over his spine slowly, hoping to will away what was racking his chest. Then he said, “Let me help you?”

“This is oddly familiar,” Taeyong replied nasally, watching as Johnny kicked open the handicap stall and lead him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.

“This is, isn’t it?” Johnny left to gather an array of paper towels, some wet, some soapy, and some dry. “So…” He started, pulling away the one Taeyong had stuffed up his nose to swap it for a much softer tissue he’d pulled from his pocket. “Got a name? Or are you just a pretty face with a bloody mystery?”

“It’s been three years, how do you even still remember that?” Taeyong, though incredulous, laughed alongside his lover, punching him lightly in the arm.

“You remember it too though, right? My sentimental boyfriend.”

“I swear to God my next fight is going to be with you.”

Johnny placed his palms on Taeyong’s shoulders and then dropped his weight into his lap. Taeyong, in return, would’ve jumped in surprise has he not been pinned by the much larger man’s weight. “Try me. But I think I’ve already won.”

Taeyong wiggled in frustration, trying to make his way out while Johnny, oh-so-casually, continued to clean up the drops of blood on his upper lip and exposed collar. “There you go,” He hummed in satisfaction when Taeyong finally settled down. “All clean.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” Johnny leaned in for a quick kiss.

As he removed himself from Taeyong and discarded his self-called makeshift tools he held his hand out to the other. Taeyong took it and tried not to lose footing again when Johnny tugged him close to his chest. “Maybe lay off on the bar brawls huh?” His head dropped, lips brushing against Taeyong’s ears when he whispered, “You look too good to be beaten up all the time.”

“And you look too good not to ask me out,” he returned with a small laugh. Their fingers linked, palms flush against one another when Taeyong pressed onto his toes for one more kiss. “Oh, wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is part of my National Novel Writing Month fanfic sprint to 50k^^
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, on Twitter (@ChibiKadaj), or Curious Cat (https://curiouscat.me/ChibixKadaj) <3


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